Shattering Remains
by Devin Trinidad
Summary: She didn't break the plates, but did she have to break herself? All she could hear was the increased volume in laughter.


"Hee hee. Trying to kill yourself, are you?" A tall gaunt man with a maniacally creepy grin stood in front of the maid, eagerness for the soon to come bloodshed apparent on his scarred complexion.

From what Mey-Rin could see, he was a bit different from the other guests who came to participate in the upcoming play. She was happy that the young master was finally coming out of his shell. Perhaps, he could act cheerful and more loving to his Lady Elizabeth? Nevertheless, the awkward maid was content to see that her dear employer was at least trying to grin and bear it by acting in the theater. Call it her inbred maternal instincts, but she had a feeling that bad things would happen to him early on in life, best to enjoy it now while he can.

Pasting a fake cheery smile on her face she walked around the embalmer, dishes in tow. Quite troublesome, she thought as she realized that one of her dishes was about to fall out of place. Another thing that was troublesome was the leering male in front of her. Why did the Lord Ciel have to let this man inside the house when obviously he was a crazy fool just waiting to get killed?

The last time the clumsy maid queried the very man's existence in their presence, he had muttered," Advisor… in a joking way." His glare that pierced the woman to the core told her that she should never speak of the matter again. In other words, let the sleeping dogs lie. Or, in the words of the lunatic of a mortician, let the dead dogs stay dead.

"What do you ever so mean?" She grunted with a lot effort, polite niceties not streaming through her head right there. Jostling the expensive plates in a comfortable position on one arm, she opened the cabinet reserved for the china; she prepared to put away her burden. If she accomplished this task without fail, which seemed very likely, she could get a compliment out of Sebastian! With that thought in mind she inched closer to her destination.

"Pretty woman like you are so feeble; no matter how far away from death they are!" His long black fingernails tapped his cheeks in a thoughtful manner as he contemplated his new revelation. "So ugly when alive, but when the clock tolls…" He leered at the astonished serving girl.

During his little speech about death, she stopped dead in her tracks. First, he hit on her… Did she hear an insult right now?

"So you're saying," she mumbled to herself. Her cheeks flamed red and her cheeks burned as she spied the undertaker rake his eyes-did he have any?-all over her figure. It terrified Mey-Rin, it felt as if she was going to be killed by this man, but he looked harmless for crying out loud! Not only that, but the Master trusted him.

Stuttering, she tried to continued her statement," I-I'm ugly?"

Stalking over to her, he stooped down to her level; silver bangs meeting red watery eyes. Sagely nodding as if she was a child who stole cookies from the cookie jar, he said, "Why, yes!"

Fingering a lock of her bunched up red hair, the maid trembled in his hold. Ignoring the protests that his captive uttered, he exclaimed in childish disapproval," Your hair's too bright! I think a slightly muted tone would go well with deathly pale skin!"

"B-but sir," she shrieked. As she was about to duck away from his predatory advances, she realized that one of the plates was not as secure as she thought in her arms. Quickly, she adjusted the position once more so that everything was orderly the way the butler liked it. With a suppressed groan, she comprehended that she could not move without any of her belongings slipping. It looked like she had to deal with the harassment for a little while longer.

"That blush on your cheeks is far too lively. Can't you control your emotions better?" Placing his sharp, but smooth fingernail over her cheek, he rubbed gently. Yet, as he did so, her flush just deepened to an even darker hue of red.

"S-sir, my arms-" She cannot put up with both encumbrances any longer! How can anybody put up with this infuriating man!

"You're like an apple. Delicious, ripe, however," as he looked down at her in mockery," forbidden. Are you forbidden to me, my dear?" And as his face neared hers closer in frightening proximity, Mey-Rin felt all the blood rush out of her countenance.

No! This was all wrong! Sebastian should be the one to kiss her! As she tried to back away-

"There! You look more stunning like that! Pale, like I was going to reap your soul!" At that point, the odd man began to laugh violently; his sides were shaking back and forth.

Frowning, the maid turned back to her plates, the previous death grip on her tresses long forgotten. Huffing to herself as she threw a disgusted glare to the man childishly rolling on the floor in laughter. Honestly, it was as if he was drunk…

Once again, she turned to the open cabinet that she opened earlier and groaned. Earlier, she had not apprehended that this cabinet was not the right place to store her Master's favored dinnerware.

Warily, she pushed an unused chair with her foot to the base of the large dresser. Sighing, she put one foot on the chair, steadied herself, and began to rise. Slowly… Slowly, as her arms trembled she shoved the plates into the glassy enclosure and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Yes! She completed her task and now Sebastian can-

"Aahh!" When she stepped back, the chair toppled over. Great, she doesn't break the plates, but did she have to break herself? As she waited for impact, all she heard was the increased volume in laughter.

"Hee hee! Because you made me laugh, I saved you!"

In disbelief, she saw the creepy smile of the undertaker through her thick lenses as he jovially swung her around as if she was his bride. The corpse bride to be more appropriate, she mused. At that traitorous thought, she blushed faintly. Sebastian would not approve. In desperation-she did not want to deal with her colleagues harassing her for her new 'love interest' she tried to wriggle free from the mortician's clutches.

"Now, now, Miss Mey-Rin, you don't want to die like that, so you?" Chuckling, he set her down on the floor and headed towards the floor. Turning back once more, as if he forgot something, he melancholically murmured," A pity that the black butler doesn't like you, I find it rather funny!" Smirk never leaving his thin lips; he glided out the door in his queer way.

"Yes! That was most improper!" Punching the cabinet, a wine glass tumbled out and landed on the floor. The sweet sound of glass shattering on impact met Mey-Rin's ears as she stood, furiously. So much for the compliment she thought to herself.


End file.
